The Story of Us
by TheChartreuseTiger
Summary: We all know that Merlin has a secret, but Arthur is hiding his own truth as well. As the two men struggle to conceal their true identities, Arthur's final destiny approaches, and Merlin can't let him die. In an attempt to save his friend's life, Merlin transports them both to 21st Century New York: a strange land where secrets tend not to stay secrets for very long. Merthur (duh).
1. Chapter 1

_Extended Summary:_ We all know that Merlin has a secret, but Arthur is hiding his own truth as well. As the two men struggle to conceal their true identities, Arthur's final destiny approaches, and Merlin can't let him die. In an attempt to save his friend's life, Merlin transports them both to 21st Century New York: a strange and mysterious land where secrets don't stay secrets for very long. Merthur (duh), AU, and oh yeah, gay sex.

_Disclaimer: _Unfortunately, I'm only borrowing these characters.

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**Chapter One: The Prophecy**

_Merlin:_

The blade is just inches away from Arthur's skin. I am crouched where no one can see me, but I can see them: I can see Mordred and I can see Arthur and I can see Mordred's sword; I can see death. Everything is quiet, oh so quiet. The silence is screaming, deafening, and I want to cry out, I want to end this. But I know I can't save him.

During these final moments, time moves slowly, sluggishly, and I cannot turn away. I am frozen, forced to watch this gruesome scene play out. It doesn't matter anyway. I know what is going to happen. I've seen it already.

At first, Arthur's final destiny came to haunt me in my dreams. I would wake up, crying, drenched in sweat, still tasting the sickly sweet smell of blood that accompanied these visions. I would close my eyes, trying to fall asleep again, trying to blot out the images that I could not stop seeing. _It's just a dream_, I would tell myself, _just a dream,_ but of course, it wasn't.

I didn't want to believe the terrible truth, the truth of Arthur's demise, so I decided to ignore it. But as hard as I tried, I couldn't stop dreaming. Soon, my dreams had turned into a sick reality. I would look into Arthur's eyes and all I would see was death. Death. Death. Death.

And Pain.

I would pass Mordred in the halls of the castle and I would feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Now I am here. I am stuck in this waking nightmare. I know exactly what is going to happen, and I cannot do anything about it. Mordred will strike the fatal blow, the blow that will eventually kill Arthur. My king will fall to his knees. His face, stripped of it's defenses, will be an open book of emotions. I will feel his anger: powerful, raging, surging. Even as he is about to die, Arthur will be as strong as ever. Then, underneath the powerful raging and surging, there will be a sadness: soft and fleeting as it mixes with the anger and melts into surprise.

Arthur is clueless; he always has been. He may be strong, brave... smart even, but he has always been hopelessly clueless. He sees the evidence, but he does not want to put the pieces together. The truth hurts too much, so he lets himself be deceived by everyone he cares about. This is why, when Mordred spears him, Arthur will be surprised, although he really shouldn't be. The surprise will be short lived, and Arthur's face will close up again, no longer easy to read, but hard and brittle: The face of a warrior. But I know Arthur. I will still be able to see the pain in his eyes.

"You gave me no choice," Mordred will softly say, almost regretfully. Then, with a last surge of energy, Arthur will rise and strike Mordred, who will crumble to the ground, his final smirk frozen on his face. In my visions, it always happens like this: Arthur will stumble forward, arms outstretched as if reaching for the life he is about to lose, but before he can continue, he falls once more, and this time he does not get up.

Yes, these are the last moments of Arthur Pendragon, but they have not happened yet. These are the moments that I have been forced to watch over and over in my mind; these are the moments I am forced to witness _now_, by my cruel, unyielding eyes. As time inches slowly by, as Mordred's sword flies through the air towards Arthur, I am suddenly caught by a cacophony of memories that come flooding back, and I willingly escape into the past.

My mind takes me back, way back, to the beginning. It is my first day in Camelot. I am an outsider, new to this vibrant city. And there he is: There is Arthur. Of course, I don't know that he is the prince, and I immediately hate him. _Oh Arthur, you were such a clotpole back then_, I think wistfully. No, Arthur is _still_ a clotpole. Endearingly so. He is the clotpole that I have come to love throughout these years of servitude.

Images of Arthur fill my brain. Arthur laughing, Arthur hunting, Arthur ordering me around. Arthur pulling me close, so close that our noses almost touch and angrily telling me to go polish the armor. I remember nodding mutely, my tongue tied, not wanting this strange moment to end. Whatever had happened that day, Arthur was in a foul mood and I could feel his heavy breath on my face. I couldn't stop my eyes from lingering on his lips, just inches from mine, wondering what they might feel like.

"What is wrong with you, Merlin?!" Arthur spat; his little patience dwindling. "What are you waiting for? Get a move on! I have better things to do than wait around for you to do as you're told." And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, leaving me clutching at my racing heart, trying to understand the peculiar feelings that had nestled their way into my mind, these uncanny feelings that refused to go away, but instead grew into a full fledged longing that would not budge.

My memories take me back to the day Arthur married Gwen. Of course, I was happy for him. Gwen? She's a great person, it only makes sense that he would choose to make her his queen, but underneath my joyous facade, the bitter feeling of jealousy welled up within me.

There they are, Arthur and Gwen: kissing. There they are, Arthur and Gwen: embracing. There I am: alone in the stable. I am fingering my erection, hard cock in hand, moaning his name: _Arthur... Arthur..._ softly though, so no one can hear.

_Arthur...Arthur..._ I snap back to the present, and I can feel the tears coursing down my cheeks.

Oh, Arthur, how I wish I could save you. But I can't. Can I? The prophecy cannot be changed. Can it? _I love you, Arthur_.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Mordred's blade sings through the air, breaking the silence that fills the chamber, snapping me out of my haphazard thoughts. I gaze at Arthur. I drink in the sight of his chiseled face, his rough hands, his muscular body. I know that I love this man, and even if we could never be, Arthur and I, I know I cannot let him die. I am suddenly possessed by a passion, one that fills my ears, my lungs, my eyes. I will do everything in my power to save Arthur. I whisper, mangled words that make no sense, not even to me, but I harness their energy, and there is a deafening roar that I am surprised to realize is no longer in my head.

_Anywhere, take us anywhere. Somewhere far far away; somewhere as far away from here as possible,_ I pray, and just like that my vision blurs. I have a churning sensation in the pit of my stomach, and before I can cry out with fear, I am plunged into darkness.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :) Please let me know what you think. Srsly, hand over that crit! (hint: the review button is right down there).


	2. Chapter 2

_Previously on The Story of Us: Merlin~ Anywhere, take us anywhere. Somewhere far far away; somewhere as far away from here as possible,_ I pray, and just like that my vision blurs. I have a churning sensation in the pit of my stomach, and before I can cry out with fear, I am plunged into darkness.

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**Chapter Two: Lost**

_Arthur:_

The first thing that hits me is the smell: an acrid stench that coats the roof of my mouth, making me gasp for air. The second thing is the noise: loud and deafening, washing over me and making my head spin. I open my eyes and wince at the sunlight. I sit up, clutching my aching head, _where am I?_ I blink, surveying the surrounding field in which I have just found myself in. _How peculiar._

I have the feeling that I am forgetting something important.

I turn my gaze upwards and my breath catches in my throat. In the distance, tall castles, rising high above the trees, pierce the alien sky above. I have never seen such structures before and I am filled with a strange awe and apprehension. I catch sight of a familiar figure, lying prone in the grass beside me. _Merlin?_ Relief floods over me as I shake him, trying to revive the manservant.

"_Merlin! Merlin?_" I whisper urgently. "Wake up, you dolt!"

"Mmmm..." he mumbles, "Where _are_ we? Yow, that noise..." He sits up, rubbing his ears, which must be as sore as mine, blinking open his eyes. They widen as they settle on my face. "_Arthur!_" Merlin cries, jumping up and embracing me. For a couple moments, I let myself relax into the hug, not caring where we are or who sees us, then I come to my senses and reluctantly push Merlin away, rubbing my eyes. Scattered bits of memory come flooding back, making my brain hurt. I remember now... Mordred. My heart sinks. I pride myself on my swordsmanship, but even _I_ would have a hard time dodging _that_ blow. I swear, I thought I was going to die.

_I was going to die_. The weight of this statement rattles me, and I blink hard, attempting to clear my head, but all I succeed in doing is making my migraine worse.

"Do you know where we are?" I question, then after a pause, "Merlin... are we _dead_?" As soon as the words are out, I feel silly, so I try to laugh the notion away, but my forced smile falters. Mordred could have killed me, this could be some sort of nightmarish afterlife.

"No, Arthur, I don't think we're dead, but you were going to be if I hadn't..." he trails off, eyes glazed over, lost in thought.

"Hadn't what? Where are we, Merlin?"

"No, nothing- I have absolutely no idea."  
"Something must have brought us here. Mordred..." I shake my head, not wanting to think about my near death experience. "Well, Merlin, looks like we have our work cut out for us!" I say, my voice sounding way more cheerful than I actually feel, "Let's find out where the hell we are and then let's go home!"

Merlin rises and extends his arms towards me. I take them, standing up. My chain mail has never felt so heavy, but this is no time to be weary. We must go on. As we walk through this strange land, I notice we are not alone.

"Look, Merlin," I whisper, "Who _are_ these people?" They skirt around Merlin and me, giving us a wide berth, pulling their strange hounds along on colored ropes. I'd never seen the like.

"You don't suppose we could ask for directions?" Merlin mutters.

"I don't suppose it would hurt to try. I'm sure they've heard of me: I am King Arthur Pendragon after all. Maybe they know the way back to Camelot." _Yes_, I think, growing confident. _All we need now is a sturdy steed and we'll be set!_ It's as if my prayers are answered: Amidst the noise of this putrid place, I hear the familiar sound of hoofbeats. I turn around as a woman gallops towards us, seated high on a handsome horse.

Several things strike me as strange about this lady. First of all, she is not riding properly, not like a lady should anyway. Her pretty face is set in a stern frown and she is dressed in the most outlandish garb. As she draws near, I can make out her badge, pinned onto her shoulder sleeve.

**Mounted, NYPD**, reads the badge, in strange letters that I finally manage to decipher, but still struggle to understand. _NYPD.? What?_ But, no matter.

"Madame," I approach her and my hand tightens on the hilt of my sword, just in case there's any trouble, "I am King Arthur Pendragon." I wait for any hint of recognition, but her face remains as reproachful as ever.

"Sir," she says, "Sir, I would like you to put that weapon away," she gestures to my sword, but I can barely understand her awkward appellations. She speaks English, yet it is a mangled form of the language and her accent is none that I know of. "You are disrupting the peace. Central Park is no place for hooligans like you. Let me escort you out-"

"Please," I cut her off. "Do you not know who I am? I have to get back to my people." I am hungry and I am tired, and I am not in any mood for games.

"Sir," she says again, then "Sirs," as she notices Merlin, standing silent besides me, a look of growing discomfort on his face. I am sure he is just as hungry and tired as I am. "Come with me and-"

I have no patience for this. I wouldn't normally call myself irrational, but I just almost died. I am now stuck in this strange place, with this strange woman, with her strange words and her strange clothes, and she is seriously getting on my nerves.

"Come on, Merlin. We're going," I grab his arm and pull him away.

"Stop!" The strange woman demands, _who is she to order me around anyway?_ "Stop right there! This is an obstruction of justice!" She starts to trot towards us, pathetically kicking at her horse. I am fed up with this.

Like, really.

I can't deal with this place anymore, and this woman certainly isn't helping any.

"Merlin," I say, turning towards him.

"Arthur?"

"Run!" and we bolt. We race through the fields, over small rickety bridges, through this foreign terrain, this unknown territory, not daring to look back for fear the lady has followed us. She hasn't.

Either we lost her during the chase or she has decided we are not worth the trouble. We go on, but we don't run anymore. People stare at us like _we_ are the weird ones. I wipe the sweat off my brow. Neither I nor Merlin have the energy to talk, so instead we trudge on in silence. Merlin walks ahead of me, and I take advantage of this opportunity to check out his ass. Then I look away, feeling guilty._ This is so wrong!_ I think, mentally berating myself for harboring these thoughts- these sticky feelings that I can't shake away. They only grow stronger each day and they follow me around, like a plague.

"Arthur," I jump. It's Merlin, and the way his piercing blue eyes meet mine, I feel as if he can see into my soul, as if he can hear my thoughts. Of course, I know I'm being silly: I'm tired and I'm not thinking straight, but I still feel the rosy flush of embarrassment creep upon my cheeks.

"Arthur," Merlin says again, "Look!"

We stand there in silence, gaping at the city scene before us, not knowing what to say. Beneath our feet, there is a hard stone floor of some sort that covers everything in sight. Strange creatures,_ monsters?_ growl as they whiz by. Sometimes yellow monsters swallow passersby and sometimes they spit them out, but no one seems to be bothered by this gruesome fact.

Here we are, Merlin and I, in this strange land, with these strange people and their strange clothes and noises. We are stranded, with no way to get back home. Usually, I have some idea of what to do. I almost always have a plan, or purposefully the lack thereof, but it is all part of some stratagem. This time, I have none. I have no plan.

I am completely and utterly lost.

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A/N: Sorry I'm updating so late. I want to say thank you to all those of you who read my story and have shown your support! I couldn't keep writing without you guys! I also couldn't have published this chapter without the help of my amazing sister, so thank you sissy! Please let me know any thoughts/opinions/ideas you may have. Your feedback only makes my writing better... plus it makes me happy =)


	3. Chapter 3

_Previously on The Story of Us: Arthur~ _Here we are, Merlin and I, in this strange land, with these strange people and their strange clothes and noises. We are stranded, with no way to get back home. Usually, I have some idea of what to do. I almost always have a plan, or purposefully the lack thereof, but it is all part of some stratagem. This time, I have none. I have no plan. I am completely and utterly lost.

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**Chapter Three: Of Credit Cards and Elevators...**

_Merlin:_

The man behind the desk looks apprehensive. We've been at this for a several minutes now, to no avail.

"Mister," he is repeating himself, a bead of sweat lingering on his upper lip, "if you don't have a reservation, I'll need to scan your card." His name tag states **Hello, My name is Rob**, in big blocky letters._ Rob?_ What kind of name is _Rob?_

I rub my eyes, willing myself to stay awake. I am feeling drained after transporting both Arthur and myself to wherever this is. After leaving the park, Arthur and I attempted to cross the street, nearly getting run over in the process. The experience was absolutely terrifying; I would hate to have saved Arthur from one death, only to encounter another. Arthur calls the curious contraptions that inhabit this land _monsters_, but I like to think of them as horseless carriages, pulled along by some invisible force. After managing to conquer this obstacle, we moved on, searching for someplace to take shelter.

"My _card?_" Arthur asks.

"Your _Credit_ Card," Rob speaks slowly, enunciating his syllables, as if he thinks that will help us understand what he is saying.

"_Credit?_ All I want is someplace to sleep for a couple nights, is that so hard for your simple mind to comprehend?" Arthur is growing restless; his fingers drum on the hilt of his sword, "Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Can you talk some sense into this simpleton?" I nod, approaching the desk.

"Err- _Rob!_ We've come a long way and we are very tired," I plead, "What my friend means to say, is... well... we were wondering if you, _kind_ sir, would be so gracious to let us stay a few days...? We're willing to pay... handsomely, of course!" I kick Arthur's shin underneath the desk, and he nods, smiling, tight lipped, but he shoots me a deadly glare when Rob isn't looking.

Rob looks relieved, "Yes!" he says, triumphantly, "That's _exactly_ what I've been trying to tell you! If you want a room, you'll need to pay up first. Now, if you don't have a credit card..." he trails off as Arthur reaches into his belt and withdraws a small leather pouch.

"Here," Arthur says, spilling forth it's contents "I hope this will be enough?"

Rob stares, wide eyed, at the gold coins and royal gems before him. He runs a hungry finger across the surface of a ruby, sniffs at a sapphire, then looks back up at us.

"Who _are_ you people?" he asks incredulously and before we can answer, Rob is leading us across the lobby, and into a small room, labeled **Elevator**. _Elevator?_ What on Earth is an _elevator?_ I turn to Rob, but before I can begin to ask, the elevator jolts, and I have the strangest sensation of rising. I can feel us climbing higher and higher, yet it's as though my stomach has been abandoned, down below, and I suddenly feel sick and dizzy. Very _very_ dizzy. I lose my balance and grab onto the nearest thing: Arthur. I expect him to push me away, but instead he holds on, probably feeling just as dizzy and disoriented as I am. Arthur's grip is tight, and I find myself pressed up against his chest.

Not that I mind. Not at all.

Rob, on the other hand, seems completely unphased, but stares at us with avid curiosity. "Are you guys, like, _together?_" he asks. The doors open, and Arthur and I tumble out.

"Merlin is my manservant," Arthur states, matter-of-factly, nodding in my direction as he brushes himself off. Rob raises an eyebrow, but decides it's best not to ask anymore questions, instead, he leads us down a long corridor which ends at room 857.

"Just swipe the key card, and the door will open, " he explains, showing us what to do. The door swings open, and Rob is gone. It is just me and Arthur, and we look at each other. He feigns anger, attempting to imitate my voice.

"_Kind sir, of course, we'll pay handsomely_," he mimics, teasingly. "What were you thinking Merlin? Suppose I hadn't been carrying anything on me? What then?"

"Shut up, dollop head," I reply, "I saved our asses back there, and you know it!"

"Oh, you did now, did you?" Arthur punches my shoulder playfully, and he really doesn't mean it to hurt, but he is strong, and it does.

I admit, maybe I'm exhausted, or just tired and hungry, but whatever the reason, I'm not thinking straight and I'm feeling extra gutsy today; I punch him back. Arthur looks at me, surprised, and my heart catches in my throat.

_Of course, I just punched the King, and now I am in trouble,_ I think. _When we get back home, I'll be shoveling out the stables for weeks._ But no- Arthur is not angry or upset. He laughs away his initial surprise and before we know it, we are wrestling each other in a boyish display of testosterone. I can't say I'm shocked when Arthur wins. He pins me down on the ground and, despite our best efforts, we are giggling like little girls. Our faces are just a hairs breadth apart; I can make out the fine stubble that covers his jaw. Our eyes meet and I fight the urge to get lost in those pretty eyes of his. His lips are a rosy red, the same color my face is turning, and I can hear my pounding heart, thudding in my chest.

Before I know it, I am reaching up, grabbing his face in my sweaty palms. I am bringing my mouth to his, and we are kissing, like our lives depend on it.

That's what I _wish_ would happen. But it doesn't. I put away my fantasy and painfully turn my head away, before I do something stupid: something I'll regret.

That's it. The moment is lost.

Arthur rises, and we take a look around the room for the first time. The bed takes up most of the space: it is giant, even bigger than Arthur's bed in Camelot and beyond it lies a balcony, behind a pair of sliding doors.

"Merlin," Arthur is trying to discard his armor, "Give me a hand, will you?" As I undress him, I try not to notice Arthur's toned stomach. _Why does he have to sleep shirtless?_ I curse in my head.

Arthur sprawls on the bed. "Merlin, we've got to do something about our clothes. If we're to stay here a while longer, we'll have to blend in. And tomorrow..." he yawns, "tomorrow we'll figure out exactly where we are. Then we'll figure out how to get home..." his words fade away into a snore; he is sound asleep.

Meanwhile, I huddle on the floor, listening to Arthur's rhythmic breathing. I lie there in the darkness, not really caring exactly where we are, because all that really matters is that Arthur is alive.

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A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one, especially the scene in the elevator and later, the wrestling ;) Don't worry, I won't leave Merlin and Arthur in the dark for much longer- they'll find out where they are soon enough :P And then the fun really begins...


	4. Chapter 4

_Previously on The Story of Us:_ _Merlin~_ I huddle on the floor, listening to Arthur's rhythmic breathing. I lie there in the darkness, not really caring exactly where we are, because all that really matters is that Arthur is alive.

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**Chapter Four: Destroyed By Time**

_Arthur: _

I open my eyes as the sun filters in through the windows of room 857. I get up and almost trip over Merlin on the way to the bathroom.

It's been a couple weeks since we arrived in New York. It turns out we're much farther away from Camelot than I thought we were, both through space _and_ time.

Since then, I've learned many things, both about myself and this world. I've learned how to hail a cab; I now know how to flush the toilet (trust me, I learn from my mistakes), how to text, how to use a microwave; I've discovered television...

I run the water in the sink, splashing my face, and the droplets run down my cheeks, almost like tears, taking me back to that day. I don't usually cry. I guess, I'm kind of a macho guy. But I cried that day, and who can blame me, really?

Merlin and I were just settling into the hotel, and I was busy discovering it's many wonders. I had unknowingly sat on the remote, causing the TV to turn on, with a loud static burp and a flash of light.

"Merlin!" I had cried, "What sorcery is this?"

"Arthur, what did you do? This is no sorcery," he replied, and I scoffed.

"So, you're the expert on sorcery now?"

"_Shhhh_..." Merlin nodded at the screen, and I curiously gazed at the images displayed before us.

I had never seen anything like it before: the moving pictures were animated on this strange surface, as if they were alive. I flinched- expecting them to jump out at me, but to my relief, they remained in the television.

"Merlin, look," I pointed, because there we were. Our likenesses: captured on the monitor- an exact replica of me in my armor and Merlin, standing towards the back, a look of utter bewilderment frozen on his face: an echo of the one he had in reality.

We both jumped as a stern voice spoke out, and it took me awhile to realize that it was emanating from the screen.

"_Reportedly unstable, these men were last spotted by Officer McKinley in Central Park, and are most likely armed and dangerous: If spotted, make sure to contact the New York City Police Department," _the voice proclaimed.

"Oh, this is just great. We've barely been here a couple days and we're already wanted by the bloody police department, whatever the hell that is!" I shifted my weight, unintentionally flipping the channel.

A different voice, this time deeper and gruffer, explained, "_Tonight on the History Channel, we take a look at the Legend of King Arthur Pendragon and the Knights of the Round Table...We don't have any contemporary evidence for King Arthur as a historical figure, although he may have existed centuries ago; he certainly existed in the minds of the Britons, and as a figurehead for their resistance against the Saxons..." _

I felt sick. _Contemporary evidence? Historical figure? Centuries ago? _

_Calm down, _I told myself, _It must be a _different _King Arthur Pendragon, _but I didn't really believe that. I turned to Merlin, his face a reflection of my nauseating realization, a horrified look pasted on his features.

"Tell me, " I was almost begging, "that this isn't happening," but Merlin wouldn't return my gaze. That's how I found out.

I suppose I shouldn't have been so shocked; it all makes sense in a twisted way. It explains a lot about this place: why everyone dresses differently, why they all talk weird, why my home, my kingdom, my people seem so distant- it's because they're all gone. Dead. Destroyed by time.

I remember, that day, I had stormed into the bathroom, which I had just discovered how to use the night before. I'd locked the door and ran the bath water, turning the unfamiliar metal knobs. I stripped, and sat in the tub, not caring that the water was way too hot.

"Arthur! _Arthur?_" Merlin pounded on the door, but I ignored that too. Right now I needed to be alone. I clenched my jaw, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to keep the tears that had begun to form from escaping, without much success. A couple droplets of salt water managed to slip out, gathering momentum, rolling down my cheeks and I caught them in my mouth, sinking beneath the scalding water._ I'd rather have died than have everyone I know, everyone I care about, be gone_, I thought bitterly. Well, not _everyone_- I still had Merlin; thank goodness for that.

Ω•Ω•Ω

Now, I'm brushing my teeth in the mirror and through the reflection I see Merlin walk in behind me, yawning the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning, Arthur," he mumbles, taking his place beside me, at the sink. It's funny- our relationship has changed since we arrived in this new place. Merlin still does a lot for me- too much- but lately I've been doing things for Merlin too.

"Want me to bring you back some coffee?" I offer, as I get dressed and head out for my morning run.

"Yeah, that would be great," he smiles, a token of gratitude. When Merlin smiles, the room lights up: _I_ light up.

"The usual?" I ask, and he nods. By now, I know Merlin's order. We've been doing this for a while now, and we've almost settled into a comfortable routine. Almost. Part of me doesn't ever want to get used to this place- to this time.

As I leave, I catch Merlin's eye, "See you soon," I say, and as the door shuts behind me, I feel a strange longing- without him I feel empty, like something is missing. I am overcome with a burning hunger- a hunger for Merlin, a strange kind of passion: a desire to protect my manservant in this mystifying city we have found ourselves in. No- we didn't find ourselves here. We were uprooted: stolen away from our time and place in history and abandoned to fend for ourselves. We didn't choose this! I feel a surge of anger flow through me.

I _will_ find whatever-_whoever_- did this to us, and I will make them pay.

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A/N: Ugh- I know this one was short, but I hope it was sweet! I had trouble with Chapter Four, and it was originally about 2,000 words, but I decided to split it up and revamp :P Also, I just watched World War Z, and boy am I glad Merlin doesn't have any zombies... well... erm, nevermind. Skeleton warriors? Totes dif o.O Anyway, make sure to review. Please? Pretty please? So I won't have nightmares about zombies and skeleton warriors?


	5. Chapter 5

_Previously on The Story of Us_: _Arthur~_ We were uprooted: stolen away from our time and place in history and abandoned to fend for ourselves. We didn't choose this! I feel a surge of anger flow through me. I _will_ find whatever-_whoever_- did this to us, and I will make them pay.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Heartbeat  
**_Merlin: _

Something is wrong. So very wrong.

"_Rǽdee ásce geotan_," I whisper forcefully, for the millionth time, willing the book to levitate, but nothing happens. The _New Yorker's Guide to Manhattan _won't budge.

I sprawl out on the floor, feeling the tears prickling in my eyes. It's a Sunday afternoon, and Arthur is safely out and about; it also happens to be my day off. Right, I should probably mention that I am scooping ice cream at the Cold Stone Creamery down the block. Fun stuff, but it's the best job that I could find on such short notice, without some presumptuous degree. One of us has to be the breadwinner, and it's not going to be Arthur. He's too spoiled to get up, off that lazy monarchial ass of his.

Now, I am using this precious alone time to practice, but my efforts bear no fruit. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, but this time, no matter how much I try, no matter what I do, the spells won't work. What is _wrong_ with me? Magic is a crucial part of who I am; my whole life, it's been both a blessing and a curse, but without it, I am nothing. Ever since Arthur and I have arrived here, my magic won't work. It's just gone, and I have no idea what to do.

_Gaius would know,_ I think wistfully, _if only he were here,_ and of course, that only makes me feel worse. What is Gaius doing now, without me? Right- not now, what was Gaius doing_ then_? What did he think when Arthur and I just disappeared? Did he ever miss me as much as I am missing him? I hope not, because there's an aching in my heart and it won't go away, but it sure hurts like hell.

I don't regret saving Arthur, not for a second. If I could go back, I'd do it all again, but I _do _regret taking us so far away; how could I have known this was going to happen? I didn't want this pain… not for either of us.

Sometimes I still have nightmares about Arthur's death; I wake up in the middle of the night, cold and clammy. I always get up, and make sure Arthur is still here, and he is: fast asleep, on that big luxurious bed.

I say this with envy.

How I wish I could climb onto that bed and burrow under those downy covers. It only makes sense that Arthur gets the bed, he's the king after all, and that stuck up royal streak will forever run in his veins, but oh, how I wish I could lie down on that sumptuous mattress, just once. The temperature is dropping and the days are growing shorter; autumn is almost upon us and there's a chill in the air that comes to haunt me at night, as I try to fall asleep on the cold, hard ground.

Ω•Ω•Ω

It's early September, and I wake up, screaming, drenched in sweat. I am not yet lucid, still stuck in a nightmarish dream state. I've been dreaming about Arthur again. Mordred, as always, was just about to kill him, but this time I had stepped in, attempting to sate the warring men. Somehow, I had been impervious to their blades as they continued dueling around me.

"Don't worry, Arthur," I had assured him, "I am going to save you," I tried to cast a spell, _any_ spell, to escape Mordred's wrath, but nothing happened. I tried again, and again, but still, no result.

"Don't be silly, Merlin," Mordred had laughed in my dream. His laughter: cruel, and calculating, echoed in my mind. "You don't _have_ any magic," and with that, he cast his sword aside, killing Arthur with some gruesome spell of his own. My dream had suddenly been filled with blood; I was drowning in a red river of tears.

"Help," I flailed my arms, not knowing how to navigate these treacherous waters, and as I began to go under, I brushed against something warm, wet, and just barely alive in this sea of death. Without seeing it, I knew what it was, in the way people just happen to know these kinds of things in dreams. This was a human heart: _Arthur's_ heart. It was still beating faintly, and as I sunk beneath the waves, I clutched Arthur's heart to my own, clinging to the organ, as if my life depended on it.

"_Arthur!" _I had cried, with a last gurgling breath, and I woke up, his name on my lips. "Arthur," I am shaking, and there he is: Arms wrapping around me in a cage of protection. I am sobbing into his shoulder, as I rest my trembling hand on his bare chest, sighing with relief as I feel the beating of his pounding heart. "I thought you were dead," I whisper, trying to explain, but Arthur hushes me, with a finger to my lips.

"It's just a dream," he assures me, his voice so soft and soothing; I don't ever want him to let go.

As my initial numbness fades away, I realize that I am shivering; shaking like a leaf in Arthur's embrace.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur says, nodding at the bed, "You're cold." I stare, in disbelief. _Is Arthur really offering me his bed? _

He takes me by the hand, leading me, as if I am a child, towards the mattress. I collapse onto the sheets, and Arthur lies down beside me, curling himself around my body.

In a matter of seconds, Arthur is already snoring, and as I prepare to brave the world of dreams once more, I am no longer afraid. I can still feel Arthur's heartbeat, strong and steady, pounding through my body as I nestle myself deeper into his arms.

* * *

A/N: Well, this chapter is even shorter than the last, but even sweeter :) This was one of my favorites to write so far, and I hope you enjoyed it. I am now working on Chapter Six, but I'm starting classes tomorrow, so I might not be able to update as frequently as before. Let me know what you think, and if you have any suggestions/crit, I'm more than happy to hear you out. Thank you for all the support- you guys keep me writing!

ps. For all those wrestling fans out there, (this means you: LadyFromPoland and dtk9), I promise there's more to come =)


	6. Chapter 6

_Previously on __The Story of Us__: Merlin~ _In a matter of seconds, Arthur is already snoring, and as I prepare to brave the world of dreams once more, I am no longer afraid. I can still feel Arthur's heartbeat, strong and steady, pounding through my body as I nestle myself deeper into his arms.

* * *

**Chapter Six: The Run**

_Arthur:_

I blink my eyes open, an inexplicable feeling of comfort has buried itself in my gut and a baffling happiness washes over me, although I can't figure out why. The early morning light illuminates the room, casting a flickering glow about the place. I look down, and realize that I am spooning Merlin's sleeping figure. He looks so comfortable; I want to stay in this moment forever. I start to remember now, what had happened the night before. I gaze at Merlin, brushing back a strand of raven hair that had fallen over his forehead. I have this urge, to lean over and kiss him, like I used to kiss Gwen. My happiness fades away and is momentarily replaced by disgust. Shame. Embarrassment. Confusion. _What am I doing?_

I spring out of bed, and Merlin stirs, but doesn't wake up. I quickly slip on my hoodie, and race out the door, not even bothering to brush my teeth. I need to think: I need to run.

As I hit the streets, I crank up the volume on the old Walkman I'd bought at some thrift shop. The buildings begin to blur as I pick up the pace. I didn't run much before- sure, I kept myself busy, fencing and fighting, but here, it's not a very practical use of my time. Now, all I can do is run, and I don't know whether I'm running away from something or towards it, but it helps. For me, running is like being high: the rush of adrenaline sets my mind free; I am no longer weighed down by the stupidity of life. Ok, here's a better analogy: running is like meditation. When I run, I can escape into my own world. I can reflect on my life, I can collect my scattered thoughts, and I feel safe: nothing can touch me.

As long as I keep running, I am safe.

I race across the street, into the park and to my surprise there are tears in my eyes.

What is _wrong_ with me? I'm not usually such a girl! What would Merlin say if he saw me like this? Right, _Merlin_, I think wistfully, almost hungrily. Since when have I started caring so much about Merlin?

The truth is, I've always cared about him- he was _always_ more than just a manservant, but when did things get so complicated? Since our time in New York, Merlin has been my only friend, the only one I can really trust. We're in this, together, him and me; I suppose our friendship has only grown stronger as a result, and so have my feelings for him.

But how do I let him know? No, the question really is: Do I even _want_ to let Merlin know that I love him?

_I love him! _The realization hits me- _hard_. I freeze in my tracks, stunned by this sudden revelation. It's true though, I _do _love him. It's impossible not to, after all we've been through.

Across the park, I catch sight of a police officer. I turn away, heart racing. _Stop,_ I tell myself, _Keep calm, there's no way he can recognize me- not without my chainmail. _

Nevertheless, I can't help feeling paranoid, but who can blame me? I am a wanted man. Not just for my handsome features; I'm wanted by the police. _Here goes,_ I take a few deep breaths before I force myself to keep going. I run past the officer and fall back into a comfortable rhythmic pace.

I also run to keep in shape. I need to be strong to lead my men into battle, if I ever return to Camelot.

Part of me doesn't want to go back. It's easier here. There's less responsibility, that's for sure, but that's not entirely a good thing. Before, I had a destiny: a purpose. Fighting for my people, commanding armies: that came naturally to me; it was who I was, who I _still_ am. I was born a leader, and that's always going to be a part of me. Here, I don't know _what_ to do with my life. Everything is different, and I am forced to rediscover myself.

On the other hand, this modern world is filled with many wonders- there are endless possibilities in this country, my only problem lies with the United States government, which happens to be a democracy (yuck). You can accuse me of being a little biased, but I really do believe that absolute monarchy is still the way to go.

Despite certain complications, things are better here. A seed of hope has begun to blossom in my heart: Merlin and I have a chance- we can work in this land, that is, if he feels the same way. _Doubtful, _I scoff, _You're only setting yourself up for disappointment, Arthur_. That's why I've kept my feelings a secret for so long, among other reasons. Before I had arrived in the twenty-first century, I couldn't even begin to comprehend the concept of _sexuality_. I had always thought that men were made to love women, and women, men. Now I'm not so sure. I had always considered myself a freak, for liking another man in _that_ way, but now everything has changed, and I am still just as lost as ever. I'm not unsure about the way I feel about Merlin: that I know with a burning certainty that can't be extinguished. I'm confused because I don't know how I am going to fit all the pieces of my life together, to make room for my newfound sexual identity.

Of course, I still feel guilty. I haven't forgotten about Gwen, although I wish I could. Technically, I'm not being unfaithful: I'm a widower. That pains me to say. It hurts, knowing everyone I knew is already dead and gone, and for the most part forgotten. Sometimes I wake up, in the middle of the night, thinking I'm still in my own bed, at home. I roll over and half expect to find Gwen, curled up beside me, but she's gone, and I am filled with a bitter regret.

I _do _miss Gwen. Really, I do, but not as much as I think I should. It was easy to lie to her, my wife. _Too_ easy.

"I love you," I would say, and that wasn't completely untrue. I did love her, to some extent. I loved her for how pretty she was, and how strong she could be, but I never loved her like I love Merlin. "I love you," I'd say, as she was unbuttoning my breeches. "I love you," I'd say as we were fucking, but it was meaningless sex: It was a meaningless relationship. Of course, we had a purpose; we were trying to make a child, an heir, and if we ever succeeded, I wouldn't know about it. Still, purpose or no purpose, the sex was meaningless, because it was passionless, sadly analogous to our marriage.

I have to stop running now. My sides hurt and my breathing is heavy, as I clutch at my stomach. I collapse onto a park bench, resting my head in my hands. I didn't mean that. Gwen and I: we weren't meaningless. She meant so much to me, and I truly cared about her, but not in the way she cared about me, and I suppose she must have sensed that, to some extent.

There was always an empty void between us. I always thought that when I'd make her my queen, when she would _really_ be mine, the emptiness would go away, but it didn't. If anything, Gwen and I worked well together. I was a good king and she was a great queen; we complimented each other. I feel comfort in knowing that I left my kingdom in her hands, but I still feel guilty. I feel guilty for the way I feel about Merlin, when she was always there for me. I feel guilty, because Gwen was probably better off with Lancelot, and I was too proud, too conceited to see that.

_I'm sorry,_ I whisper into the air, and the wind whisks the rueful words away from me, as soon as they are out of my mouth.

In my minds eye, I picture the wind carrying these words, cradling them through time and space until they reach Guinevere. She deserved someone better: someone who could actually love her with all their heart and soul.

As much as I wish I could, I can't ignore the fact that every time I step into the same room, Merlin makes my palms sweat. He makes my heart want to beat right out of my chest. Merlin makes me feel things, I've never felt before, just by being: by breathing and living. It's funny, and I can't explain it, but Merlin completes me. He's my better, nicer, more humble, courteous half, and I love him for that.

* * *

A/N: Omg. I just finished writing this monster chapter, and it's turned out way longer than I intended. I hope it wasn't too much of a chore to read. Poor Arthur, he's been pouring his heart out, and now he needs to know what you think! I'll do my best to update tomorrow, but I'm only human you guys, so no promises :P This week is gonna be a busy one for me, but I'll make it up to you! I have something fun planned out for the next chapter, can anyone guess what happens? Hang on 'til Chapter Seven to find out...


	7. Chapter 7

_Previously on __The Story of Us__: Arthur~ _Merlin makes me feel things, I've never felt before, just by being: by breathing and living. It's funny, and I can't explain it, but Merlin completes me. He's my better, nicer, more humble, courteous half, and I love him for that.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Some Wicked Hot Chocolate**

_Merlin:_

It was an indulgence. One we couldn't really afford but it was totally worth it.

I drink in the high ceilings of the theatre lobby, stare at the souvenirs, and try my best to contain my exuberance. It was Arthur's idea, but an excellent one.

"How many?" The woman at the ticket booth asks us as we reach the front of the line.

"Two," Arthur says with that boyish grin of his, his eyes bright with mischief. I know that look. _Arthur, what are you up to? _I wonder as we file into the theater, and there is a thrilling ardor in the air that excites me. I am clutching the **Wicked **program in my fingers, and it crinkles with a satisfying crunching sound.

I've never seen a broadway play before: neither of us have.

As the lights dim, and the play begins; I am swept into the mystical- the _magical-_ land of Oz. I love that. I love that this story has magic, although it makes me yearn for the powers I no longer have. _That's not true,_ I attempt to reassure myself, _I just need to find the magic again, that's all._

As the story unfolds, I realize that I have dropped the playbill on the floor, beneath my feet. Now my fingers are resting on the edge of the seat, gently brushing against Arthur's. My heart flutters a bit, and for a moment I forget about the musical, and focus on Arthur instead. He is completely immersed in the play, and I take this opportunity to gaze at his flawless features.

Sometimes, I catch myself fantasizing. I fantasize about Arthur and me, and our lives, if we were together. Sometimes, I wonder where we will be, years from now. I am ashamed to admit that sometimes, I see in my minds eye, a family: The perfect family. Arthur and me … surrounded by our children. We could adopt. Surrogacy is also an option in the twenty-first century- the possibilities are endless!

_No. No they are not._ As soon as the thoughts are formed in my mind, my lips automatically curl with disgust. Ugh- I have to stop. I have to stop fantasizing about what will never happen. I have to stop this fascination with Arthur. _Stop being stupid, Merlin! _But that is easier said than done.

I look away, peeling my eyes off of Arthur.

"_Wickedness must be punished, evil effectively eliminated..." _I turn my attention back to the stage. "_Wickedness must be punished, kill the witch!" _The villagers are singing: furious and frenzied, and my breath catches in my throat.

"_Wickedness must be punished, brave witch-hunters, I would join you if I could..." _A mixture of fear and disgust washes over me, and turns into an aching anger that settles in my stomach. I have to remind myself that these people are merely actors.

This song really hits home for me. I remember the time before Arthur's reign, when Uther had outlawed magic. Thousands upon thousands had been killed, and for what?

I glance at Arthur again, and he is sitting in his chair, completely unfazed. I feel a surge of annoyance; of course, he wouldn't be- he doesn't care for magic either, but he has no idea what I had to go through each and every day in Camelot. I lived in constant fear of being caught, of being accused of a crime that I never chose to commit: A crime that shouldn't have been a crime in the first place. I was _born_ with magic; it wasn't a decision: it was my life! I sigh, exasperated with the truth that has come over me: When it comes down to it, my struggles don't matter. I would do it all over again for Arthur, because, really, there is nothing I _wouldn't_ do for him.

I would die for him: this man that I love.

I am acutely aware of our hands, just barely touching, yet I relish the way his skin feels against mine, so I push the bitter thoughts that have overwhelmed me out of my head.

Ω•Ω•Ω

A brittle wind blows through the park. I grasp the cup of hot chocolate tighter, warming my hands in the process. Arthur has already finished his, and shoves his hands into his coat pockets for warmth, but he is smiling, despite the frigid October air.

The play has been over for a while now, but neither of us wants to go back home, so instead we walk the ever busy streets of New York.

It feels like it's been ages, since that first terrifying day in the city, but actually, it's only been a couple months. We talk and we laugh, and for the first time in a while, we are completely carefree. In these precious moments, we forget all our troubles, and just focus on now.

I think I am drunk on hot chocolate, but I don't mind. The sugar has me on a high, and I don't want to come down.

Arthur and I are walking close: _ very _close. Every time we brush against each other, we giggle, and I feel lightheaded with giddiness.

"Merlin." Arthur turns to me.

"Yeah?"

"You have really pretty eyes," I blink, surprised. _Where did that come from? _He must be drunk on hot chocolate too, I conclude. I'm confused by this random compliment. Confused… yet pleased. _Arthur thinks _my_ eyes are _pretty_?_ Before I can think of what to say to this, Arthur grabs my hand and closes his fingers around mine, leading me towards a bench, where we collapse. I look around, for the first time taking in my surroundings, and I have the feeling that I've been here before.

"Arthur, is this...?" I look at him, and he nods. I know where we are now. This is where we first arrived. Arthur and I sit in silence for a while, and I lean back, resting my head against his shoulder. This physical contact- it isn't awkward in the least. It feels kind of… right, like I belong here, next to Arthur, on this bench, in New York city. _Even if I could, would I take us back to where we came from?_ I don't know anymore.

I can feel Arthur shivering, so I place my cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

"Drink up, tough guy," I say. He attempts to protest, but then thinks better of it, and sips the sweet liquid. I study his face, carefully gazing up at him. Arthur seems as if he is about to say something, but he catches my eye and then bashfully looks away.

"Remember the day we met?" I say, swallowing slightly. A ball of emotions is stuck in my throat that I can't dislodge. I can feel the rise and fall of Arthur's chest as he breaths and I feel a strong sensation of want. I want Arthur so bad right now. The little space between us is charged with an invisible energy, and I wonder if he feels it too.

"Yeah, I remember," Arthur replies. I can't help noticing how he brushes his hair out of his eyes, how his mouth shapes the syllables as he speaks. I want to touch him. I want to lean over and run my fingers over his body, but instead I say, "You were such a dick back then."

As soon as the words are out, I want to take them back, and I can feel the embarrassment on my face. _Smooth_, _Merlin_, I mentally berate myself; _you really know how to make a guy feel special. _ But Arthur isn't bothered by this comment, instead he bursts out laughing. I watch him for a couple moments, and then I can't help myself: I join in with peals of my own. We laugh together, holding each other, and I am laughing so hard that I can't breath, and suddenly, I think I must have surely died, because this is too good to be true.

One minute, we are chortling, the next our lips collide, and my heart has jumped into my throat. There is a fire racing through my veins as we explore each others mouths: carefully at first- then we let our bodies take over; we succumb to our passion and there is no turning back now. Arthur sensually pulls on my lower lip as my tongue traces the inside of his mouth. The cold fades away, and all I can feel is Arthur. I can taste the hot chocolate on him, as he breaths into me. His hands are on my back, running up and down my spine, sending shock waves through my body as I caress his cheek, and run my fingers through his hair.

"Arthur, tell me this isn't some kind of miraculous dream. Tell me I'm not going to wake up," I plead as we break apart, and Arthur hushes me with another kiss.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," he whispers in my ear, before he engulfs my mouth in his once more, but I do.

I do know. _I've_ been waiting too.

* * *

A/N: Ahhh... I am so sorry it has taken me this long to update! I am unfortunately a human being, and my life gets a little hectic from time to time, but here is chapter seven, for all you wonderful patient people. Thank you so much for bearing with me! Seriously, I love you all and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

_Warning: **SEX. SEX. SEX.** Yep- that's it... oh, right- and über cheesiness. _

_Previously on The Story of Us: Merlin~ _

_"Arthur, tell me this isn't some kind of miraculous dream. Tell me I'm not going to wake up," I plead as we break apart, and Arthur hushes me with another kiss._

_"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," he whispers in my ear, before he engulfs my mouth in his once more, but I do._

_I do know. I've been waiting too._

* * *

**Chapter Eight: All Along **

_Arthur: _

I let the water run over my body, closing my eyes as I inhale the steam that fills the shower. I am happy, happier than I have been in years, maybe happier than I have been in forever.

Sometimes, I get butterflies, thinking about the _what if's_. What if we were suddenly sent back to Camelot? What then? What if, something were to happen to me, or worst of all, what if something were to happen to Merlin? I'd rather not think about such things, but every once in awhile, I wonder, what if this is some miraculous Merlin filled dream? I scrub at the soapy suds that coat my body. My life with Merlin- it seems almost too good to be true.

Sure, we have our flaws. Yes, we tease each other mercilessly, we argue from time to time; we call each other clotpoles and dollop-heads, but when I'm with Merlin, I feel whole.

So what if we get the occasional skeptical stare when we hold hands in public? Maybe I _did_ punch that guy who called us faggots to our faces- but why should that put a damper on our passion?

Does it really matter that money is tight? Those royal jewels won't last forever, and we've got to find some way to keep a roof over our heads, some way to put food in our mouths at the end of the day. We both work odd jobs now, and Merlin never gets mad when I can't seem to hang on to an occupation for more than a couple days. I have a temper, and an ego, and he has a habit of being obstinate, ornery, and right down thick headed at times. We both get grumpy in the mornings, and we might not have much, but we have enough: as cheesy as it sounds, we have each other, and that's what counts.

We are far from perfect, Merlin and I, but somehow we achieve perfection amidst our imperfections.

There is a small cough, and I turn around, my eyes snap open, my train of thought: lost. I am startled, yet delighted to find Merlin- staring, a flirtatious smile flickering on those scrumptious lips of his.

"Am I interrupting something..." he trails off with a grin, and I realize I have forgotten to lock the door. Not that that is an entirely bad thing.

"Come here, you," I growl, playfully, and he is here, in my arms. I ravenously bring my mouth to his, while I work his shirt off. Clothing discarded in a forgotten heap on the floor, he climbs into my covetous clutches and the water washes over us both. His skin on my skin sends shivers up and down my body, and I grab his jaw, turning his gaze towards mine. Our lips meet once more, and I feel an overwhelming tug in my chest, as if my heart is pulling me towards Merlin, and it is all I can do to keep from having him, right here and now, but I will myself to hold back, to take in every inch of his beautiful body, despite the pulsing desire that is growing between my legs.

We make our way towards the bed, still wet, and I wrestle Merlin onto the mattress, where we breath each other in. Merlin tastes like the rain, like the wind- Oh, fuck it. _Since when am I this poetic? _

I can feel a powerful energy, radiating from his skin, as I run my fingers over his pecs, tracing the roundness of his nipples, trembling at his every breath, his every moan. There is an anticipation in the air, and I am agonizingly aware of my cock, rubbing against his, as our hips meet. I let out a soft groan, as Merlin flips over, so he is lying on top of me. "Merlin," I whisper, as his tender lips attack my neck, trailing kisses down my stomach, lower, and lower, until-

I unwilling let out a gasp as he takes me in his mouth, kissing the tip of my member while he runs his nimble fingers down my length, squeezing me, loving me, until I can't take it anymore.

I gaze into his beguiling emerald eyes, and he gives me a small nod: I know, he wants me, as much as I want him right now. I wrap my arms around him, in a hungry embrace; there is a raging fire burning me up, but I gently turn him around, running my hands through his hair. I feel the vertebral bumps that form little hills in his skin as I bestow gentle kisses down his back, while I get down to business, preparing him for my arrival, and then I enter.

"Arthur, " Merlin gasps, and I reach for his hand, as we find our rhythm, gyrating as our bodies join in a symphony of satisfaction.

We've done this before, and I smile, as I remember how irresistibly gorgeous Merlin looks when he comes in my arms, I smile because Merlin is gorgeous right now as he envelops me, he is all around me, and I lean down to kiss his neck. My breathing grows heavy, and I am lost, in a sort of titillating trance, unaware of anything but the way our bodies fit together, like we were made for eachother. Merlin is _always_ gorgeous, I think to myself, and there is a swelling in my chest, an expanding feeling of infinity eating into my heart, and it hurts, but it's a good kind of hurt: this is love. I _love_ Merlin, but there is a sinking feeling in my gut, as I suddenly can't remember ever telling him exactly how I feel. Sure, we kiss, and we fuck- no, we don't fuck, we make love, and it's beautiful, but have I ever told Merlin that I, Arthur Pendragon, love him? Have I ever said those words?

My breath catches in my throat, my body throbs, and I am not thinking anymore, I am just feeling, as I let myself go: crying out, as I am thrust into this wondrous release. The sinking feeling is replaced by a floating sensation that won't go away- nothing can bring me down- not now, not ever. It is not till later, that I am gripped again by a burning realization that I have to tell him- I have to tell Merlin that I love him.

Ω•Ω•Ω

Merlin and I are curled about each other, our limbs intertwining so it's impossible to tell who's who anymore.

"Merlin," I whisper, running my finger along his jaw line, listening to his steady breathing, "I have to tell you something," I say, and I know I _have_ to: this is it, there's no going back. My heart races a little, and all of a sudden I am scared, but why should I be? I love this man; every inch of me loves him, and I can admit this to myself, but saying it out loud... that's different.

_I love you_ is not something you can take back. _I love you_ is out there forever, and it makes me feel vulnerable, like I am ripping out a piece of me and putting it on display, for the world to see.

_That's silly, _I tell myself, _The only person you're displaying anything to, is Merlin, _and I sigh. _I love you's _have never come easy, but _this_ time? This time it's different. It's not like Gwen; this time, I _really_ mean it. I nervously lick my lips, and gulp down my hesitation: "Merlin, _I_-"

"I have to tell you something too!" he blurts out, and suddenly I can breath again.

"Go ahead," I encourage, almost too jubilantly, but my voice is lined with guilt at the relief I am feeling.

"No- no, you go, Arthur," he insists, but I won't have it.

"Merlin, go ahead, you first," I playfully kiss his neck, his shoulder, but he brushes away my affections, a seriousness settling about his suddenly somber features.

He sits up, and takes my hands in his own, and I can't help but notice how sweaty his palms are, how he trembles as he peers into my face, like he is searching for something. Searching for what?

"Merlin," I whisper, "Are you ok?" He's scaring me now.

"Arthur," Merlin begins, now looking away, as if it hurts to look at me anymore. "Arthur," Merlin repeats, tentatively licking his lips.

"It's ok, Merlin" I whisper, squeezing his hands reassuringly, "you can tell me anything."

Merlin takes a deep breath, and then blurts out the terrible truth that settles on us like a brittle blanket, sticky and smoldering, it snuffs the flickering flame that burned in my heart, just moments before.

"Sorry, _what?_" This has to be a joke. I laugh, then stop mid guffaw, and a strangled sound escapes my lips instead. I want to tell Merlin to stop fucking with my brain, it's not funny. This stuff is serious. He can't be _serious_. It must be some stupid mistake. Yes, that's it! A mistake. It _has _to be a mistake, but an unsettling numbness is slowly taking over my body, muffling my senses, as I begin to wonder, _what if this _isn't_? _

"Merlin, _what_ did you just say?" I plead, hoping with all my might that this is nothing but a sick joke. It _can't_ be true. I look into Merlin's eyes, silently begging for him not to say it, but he does, and the wicked words ring through my ears, but I am not really hearing them.

"Arthur, I have magic."

_How can I love him now? _I let out another strangled sob, because I know, there's not denying it. He _is _serious.

This isn't a cruel joke. This isn't a mistake: This is the truth, and as it hits me over the head, I suddenly see it. Everything makes sense now, it's like the missing puzzle piece has clicked into place, and all I can think now is, _How can I love you, Merlin? How can I love you when you're-_

I am cursing my stupidity. How could I have been so careless? How could I have not have seen it?

The truth- it's been there all along.

* * *

A/N: There. The wait is over. I've updated... FINALLY. Thank you all, for sticking with this story, I appreciate all your wonderful support and feedback. I also have to thank the amazing **Skylight717**, without whom I couldn't have finished this chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one, and get ready for the finale... only two more chapters to go!


	9. Chapter 9

_Previously on The Story of Us: Arthur~_

_"Arthur, I have magic."_

How can I love him now?_ I let out another strangled sob, because I know, there's not denying it. He is serious. __This isn't a cruel joke. This isn't a mistake: This is the truth, and as it hits me over the head, I suddenly see it. Everything makes sense now, it's like the missing puzzle piece has clicked into place, and all I can think now is, How can I love you, _Merlin? How can I love you when you're-_I am cursing my stupidity. How could I have been so careless? How could I have not have seen it?_

_The truth- it's been there all along._

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Merlin in Wonderland**

_Merlin: _

"Arthur- I have magic," the words barely escape my lips, and I anxiously search Arthur's face for a reaction- _any_ reaction, but for a few terrifying seconds his features are frozen: set in stone.

"Or- at least, I _had_ magic, but ever since we got here..." I trail off, and Arthur cries out- as if he is in pain. His expressionlessness is morphing into a look of utter fury, and I rush to explain.

"I'm sorry, Arthur- I'm sorry I didn't tell you before- I was just so scared-" this isn't coming out like I wanted it to, my voice is halting- uncertain, but I painstakingly continue. "I was just so scared- I was stupid, but I saw you..." I take a deep breath, in an attempt to calm my nerves, with no success, "I saw you... die. Mordred... he was going to kill you, and I just had to do something, so I-"

I close my eyes. Maybe this will be easier if I don't have to look at him. "I _had_ to, you see that, don't you? You see that I had to take us somewhere! Somewhere far far away... " I can't take back my words, no matter how much I want to. It's too late now. I should have known better than to bring this up- "I didn't _know_, Arthur. I didn't know we were going to end up _here_, of all places, so far away from everyone we know- knew. Maybe..." hesitantly I whisper, "Maybe, it wasn't even such a bad thing- us coming here. _We _happened, after all..."

That's when I let myself open my eyes, and as I stare at Arthur- my best friend, the love of my life- that's when I know that I have just made a grave mistake. I've fucked it all up. Arthur's hands convulse with a vulgar vehemence around my own quaking hands, and he looks down at our fingers, intertwining on the tussled sheets, quickly withdrawing, as if he too, has only just realized that we are still touching. He leaps off the bed, as if he longs to widen the distance between us: As if the magic I may no longer possess is somehow contagious, like I'm some piece of rubbish he can't wait to get rid of.

We regard each other in an awkward silence, and I am suddenly aware of the early morning city bustle: a chorus of cars, the belch of a bus, a siren or two... I gaze at Arthur, and with a strange kind of sadness, I note how splendid he looks, with the rosy dawn light reflecting on his naked skin. I study his face, and suddenly, the silence is not only awkward but eery, filling the space between us, heavy and stifling, making it hard to breath.

"Arthur- can-can you forgive me?" I stutter, imploring with my eyes, but Arthur's lips are pulled back in a hideous snarl, eyes shooting daggers my way.

Very softly, in an almost impossible calm, he says, "You are going to get up. You will get your clothes from the bathroom. You will haul your sorry arse out of here, and-and you will _never_ come back."

"_Please_, Arthur," I beg, the desperation is kicking in and I rise, in protest, "What can I do to fix this?" Arthur is advancing, and with each menacing step he takes towards me, I step away. There is something frightening about the way Arthur moves, the way he shakes uncontrollably, betraying his command. His soft and steady words- they're nothing but a front. I know Arthur too well to let myself be deceived- I know on the inside he feels just as broken as I do right now.

"I am warning you, Merlin,"

"Arthur..." I disappear into the bathroom, to retrieve my clothes, and the smooth porcelain tiles of the floor feel cold upon my quivering fingertips. As I slip my trousers back on, I can barely contain the hysteria that is rising in my throat, like bile. _This can't be happening_, I lean against the wall, shutting my eyes, attempting to shut out the world. All I want to do is go to sleep until everything is ok again. I want to wake up in Arthur's arms... _Arthur_, I think longingly, the quiet twinge in my chest grows into an agonizing ache.

_Wait, What am I doing? _I am suddenly seized by a sudden determination. I can make things right! I'm not giving up on Arthur. I can't do that- I am going to make this right! I straighten up, and step outside, shirt still balled tight in my hand. Arthur is standing there, arms crossed defensively across his chest, and are those tears in his eyes?

"Arthur," I say, and this time my voice is strong, full of hope and promise, "Arthur, you don't mean it." For a second, there is a flicker of forgiveness on Arthur's face. _ "_I'm sorry I lied to you, about what- _who_ I am. I'm sorry that this had to happen like this." Scary Arthur melts into Kind Arthur, Just Arthur, _My _Arthur- the man I know better than my own self. "I don't think I could bear to lose you- I... I love you! And I _know_... _you_ love me too."

And just like that, my fate is sealed. All traces of kindness, of justness disappear, and Arthur's face is a stranger's once more.

"You love me too," I echo, and that is it for Arthur. Why it is _those _words that break him, I don't know, but no sooner are they out of my mouth then his furious fist makes contact with my unsuspecting jaw. There is a terrible bone-on-bone crunching sound, and I stumble with the force of the impact.

I rub the fast forming bump that begins to form, reluctant tears springing into my eyes- surprise etched across my face, mimicking Arthur's own startled expression; he seems as perturbed by his own violent outburst as I am. The Scary Arthur is gone for good now, and it's only the disconsolate disheartened Arthur that's left. He opens his mouth, as if to apologize for being such a pig headed prick, but I cut him off.

"Don't," I say, and this time it's _my_ voice that's impossibly calm, but I storm out the room, still bare chested, feeling anything _but_ calm. The door slams behind me with a deafening thud, making me jump as it rattles in it's hinges. Suddenly I don't feel so good. I feel sick to my stomach and I crumble to the floor, burying my head between my knees, back against the thin wall- that's all that's separating me and Arthur right now- just a couple inches of plaster, but it feels like so much more. _Don't_ I say again, this time to myself, but I can't stop the tears from trickling down my face, turning into a roaring, raging flood as I bite my hand to choke back the sobs. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I think I can hear Arthur crying too, on the other side, and that makes me feel worse. I don't know if what has just happened can ever be fixed. It certainly can't be undone.

There is a sadness in me, that rests in my heart. I remember all the good times Arthur and I have had. I think of our hands touching during the _Wicked_ performance, I recall our first kiss... I think of how we were before this all happened. I remember how it was in Camelot- and my flood of tears quickens. All those nights Arthur and I had sat round the fire, as we traveled throughout the kingdom on our various adventures- there had been something there between us, a certain kind of chemistry that neither of us had quite picked up on just yet. I yearningly picture us sitting at the round table amongst our friends... Leon, Elion, Percival, Gwaine- their once familiar faces flash before my eyes, and I am gripped by an unexpected longing, one that I have suppressed for so long.

I am homesick. So terribly homesick!

I think of Gaius, Gwen, even Morgana before- well, I don't want to dwell on _that_. For the many months we've been in New York, Arthur has been my passion, my love, my life... my _home_, but if he can't be there for me anymore- what am I to do? I want my friends back. I want my life back. I want to go home, to where I belong- back to my time, my place...

My sadness rots inside of me, fermenting into a cold hard anger which settles into a bitterness that coats my thoughts and my tongue. I can't stay here.

I get up. I slip my shirt back on. I feel slow: mechanical. I wait for the elevator to arrive, wiping my tears on the back of my hand, not really caring how presentable I may or may not look at this moment.

As I cross the hotel lobby, heading towards the doors marked **Exit** in clear, glowing letters, I nod a half hearted acknowledgement at Rob, who mans the desk. _Am I ever coming back? _I wonder. Arthur and I were going to find our own place, somewhere small- inexpensive, we were going to walk out these doors for good _together_, but I push the thought out of my head. I can't think about this right now, all I want to do is escape the prison I've created for myself.

Ω•Ω•Ω

The sun is setting; it's crimson hues bounce off the shiny buildings, creating an almost blinding haze about the city. The bitterness has now receded, the anger has evaporated from my system. All I am left with the sorrow that gnaws at the pit of my stomach. My jaw hurts from Arthur's fist, my feet ache from walking around all day: my head feels like it's been trampled on by a thousand horses. I've made up my mind: I am going back to Arthur. We'll talk this out, and it will be ok. It _has _to be ok, because I miss him. I miss him so much it's unbearable.

I need to hear Arthur's voice once more- I pat my trouser pocket, searching for the lump that is my cell phone, only to remember that in the midst of all the hurt, the unforgiving fury I had felt, the agony, the small device sitting on my bedside table had escaped my mind. My gut twists with despair, and I quicken my pace, heading towards the hotel as fast as I can. As I speed walk with a sense of dire urgency, I am fueled by thoughts of Arthur, and soon I find myself jogging, then sprinting down streets, cutting through corners, as I race towards Arthur: towards _home_. There are tears in my eyes, but they are no longer tears of anguish. No- these tears are filled with the promise of forgiveness- of the future, rising up above me: glittering and glowing as my feet hit the pavement with a new found fervor. I am so immersed in my eagerness, blinded by my tears and my yearning thoughts for Arthur that I only see the officer _after_ I have barrelled into her at top speed. We both step back, winded, and I stand there, clutching my sides, while this stern woman regards me with suspicion. She is wide: broad and busty, and her bulk is almost menacing as she stands before me; I can feel a bead of sweat forming on brow.

"Where are you off to, in such a hurry?" she cautiously investigates, looking me up and down with a look of disapproving disdain that sends my wildly thumping heart into my throat. I certainly haven't forgotten that Arthur and I are wanted by the NYPD, and this dreadful thought casts a shadow upon my eagerness as I am forced to conjure up a plausible explanation- any explanation, as long as it's not the truth.

_Ok then, let's see, I just told my boyfriend that I am the sorcerer that stole him away from the middle ages and magicked him all the way to twenty first century New York . Um, yeah- It would be an understatement to say that he didn't take the news all too well, so I'm just running back to our hotel so we can make things right, and go back to being happy and having amazing sex... _

Hmmm, what are the chances that she'll buy that? That kind of crazy shit will get me locked up in no time, in some psych ward, no doubt. Even if it _is_ the truth, the crazy fucked up truth, who'd believe me in a million years?

"Erm," I hesitate, maybe for a bit too long before I spit out the quickest, most non committal excuse I can manage, "I umm, I'm running late... for a very _very_ important date," and as soon as it's out, I want to snatch it back up. It's not a total lie, but _fuck_, I sound like I'm in Alice and Wonderland or something. I almost laugh at the irony of this: in this very moment, I feel like Alice- alone in this strange world- lost without Arthur. I can't stop a small smile from creeping onto my taught lips, brightening my tear dulled eyes, as I am momentarily taken back to the time Arthur and I went on our Disney Binge.

"Alright."

I immediately snap back to reality, feeling a warm rush of relief as the officer nods and steps aside, allowing me to pass. I am so tempted to start running again, but I force myself to walk, taking each excruciating step, slow and steady. I can still feel the police woman's skeptical gaze boring holes into my back, causing the hair on the nape of my neck to stand on end in discomfort. I risk peeking a glance over my shoulder, hoping with all my might that the officer has moved on, but as I turn around, her piercing stare meets my bashful eyes and I can feel my knees weaken, praying that she does not recognize me.

Every bone in my body is telling me to run. _Run, Merlin! Get out of here!_ but my limbs are suddenly frozen and I can't bring myself to do so: I don't want to draw any more attention to myself, and I can only inch my way down the sidewalk. I finally bring myself to cross the street, trying to put as much distance between us as I can. I step onto the asphalt and I can feel the thundering, rumbling reverberations in the soles of my shoes as the cars speed by; something I've never truly gotten accustomed to, despite all the time I've spent in the city. I begin the journey, leaping from stripe to stripe on the zebra crossing, and then-

"Merlin! _Merlin!" _

No. It can't be! My ecstatic ears can hardly believe what they're hearing. I freeze in my tracks: I am a rock in the stream and the traffic flows about me with a fluid intensity. The impatient honking of the cars harmonize in an angry ensemble, but I stand here, not caring because there he is.

"Arthur!" I cry out. "Arthur! I'm sorry"

"What are you apologizing for, you idot! _I'm_ sorry," Arthur calls to me, and my tears return yet again, and this time they are joyous, merrily dancing down my cheeks.

Arthur has found me, and I bask in my elation, because I am no longer alone, no longer lost.

The Alice within me retreats.

* * *

A/N: Wow- this is my longest chapter yet, but I certainly hope it was worth the read! Let me know what you think, and because I don't have a beta, please know that I'm glad to receive any constructive criticism. I can't believe this story is almost at an end! And although I'm sad, I'm also happy, because I've definitely grown as a writer throughout this process :) This is the second to last chapter, so hang in until Chapter Ten!


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